Reaching the mailbox, she scanned through the substantial stack. There was a yellow slip from the mail carrier indicating something had been left for her next door.
She considered the delivery notification and wracked her brain. She came up blank until she remembered the new hiking books she’d ordered them all last week. Hers were shot and now that Alex was older she was hoping the three of them could go camping and hiking sometime this summer. It wouldn’t be as arduous as some of her past trips with two children in tow, but she would enjoy some fresh air and extra time with her kids.
Passing her sidewalk, she continued on to Mrs. Milliner’s house next door. Her neighborhood was a mix of young couples and retired people. The homes were on the small side and more often than not occupied by empty-nesters or newlyweds. She found her elderly neighbor at home and retrieved an overnight mail envelope. With a quick thank you for accepting her delivery and a promise to send the children over for cookies after dinner, Lillie walked toward her own two-bedroom bungalow.
She studied the little house with its clean lines and distinct Craftsman style. She loved her home. She felt the tears welling at the thought of leaving it in just a few weeks, but it was just too small for them now.
Her father brought her mother here as a new bride. Together they painstakingly refinished the floors and stripped the oak moldings back to their natural wood. They’d welcomed their children, first Lillian and then her little sister Megan. It was also here that her father returned with Lillie alone after the car accident that claimed her mother and infant sister.
This house had sheltered her through the loss of her father in her first year of college. Her marriage, her miscarriages, divorce, and then finally new motherhood. With the exception of her college dorm room, it was the only home she’d ever known. She took a deep breath and walked up the sidewalk to her front door. She paused for a moment and looked at the welcoming red front door with its white trim and the matching flower boxes under the windows she planted with cheery snapdragons.
Lillie’s brows knitted together as she looked back to the package. It was too small to be the delivery from the popular catalog outfitter. The return address belonged to Catherine, and it was addressed to her and not the children. Catherine and Rand quite often sent packages from around the globe to the children, but seldom to her alone.
She entered the house and tossed the envelope on the table near the door to be examined after the children were tucked in bed. She glanced back at the envelope on her way down the hall to the children’s room. Her curiosity almost got the better of her. She pivoted on her heel and changed direction, back toward the envelope.
“No!” Hope shrieked. “Give that back.”
“No!” Alex hollered in return.
“It’s mine!”
“Mine!”
“Mom!”
Lillie looked back at the envelope then put it out of her mind and made her way to the children, wishing for a striped referee shirt to change into before entering their room.
* * *
A few hours later, her cherubs full of Mrs. Milliner’s cookies, bathed, read to and kissed soundly goodnight, Lillie found herself in the kitchen with a cup of green tea in one hand, rummaging in the junk drawer for a pair of scissors with the other.
At last, a little quiet. Lillie took a deep breath and poised her scissors at the edge of the cardboard overnight envelope.
She cut the end of the heavy cardboard overnight envelope and extracted a letter penned in Catherine’s bold script. Gathering the letter and her tea, Lillian headed for the living room, curled up on the couch, and tucked her feet under her.
As she took a sip of her tea, she shivered despite the warm summer temperatures and looked longingly at the fireplace. She used it less now, because of the kids. Hauling wood and cleaning up ashes was just one more thing her overburdened schedule couldn’t handle. The new house had a fireplace with the added convenience of a gas log, but she’d miss the pop and crack of the wood.
Boxes covered nearly every surface and the pang from earlier in the evening returned. So much life had happened here. If she closed her eyes, she could remember Jon stacking wood in the grate, practicing his trombone in the dining room and unpacking the stereo they couldn’t really afford, but they were thrilled to own.
She wondered if it had been hard for him to leave. Did he stand in the living room the last night? Or did he move to the door swiftly, so anxious to be gone and out of her life he didn’t hesitate or pause to remember?
It didn’t really matter anymore. She’d pack the happy ghosts in her heart and move on to a new place. Maybe even start a new life. Who knew?
She remembered the letter, lying forgotten in her lap and picked it up. The time for looking back was over. Onward and upward only. She recognized Catherine’s familiar script and the stationary of the Carlyle in New York, Cat’s favorite hotel.
My dearest girl,
I find myself this evening, after an exhausting day of meeting with my agent and publisher in the city that never sleeps, unable to sleep as well. Even in the comfortable oasis of my room here at the Carlyle, my mind returns to our argument the other day and I realize I’ll not have a moment’s rest until I apologize. Be kind and don’t judge an old woman too harshly, because it is out of love and love alone, that I judged you.
Losing Jonathan broke your heart. I know that. But I also know, the thing about broken hearts is that they go on beating just the same. It was understandable and necessary to mourn all you lost, but today is a new day…
Lillie finished the letter and set it aside. She took a long drink of her tea and contemplated all Catherine had written before she reached for the telephone on the end table near her elbow. As she dialed, she tried not to think about the fact the unfamiliar number printed on Jonathan’s card had already committed itself to her memory.
"God promises every bird its food, but He does not throw it into its nest."
--J.G. Holland
Chapter Three
Seven years. A lifetime, really. At first she’d hoped, then she’d prayed, and finally she’d accepted the fact her beloved Jonathan was capable of such cruelty. She filled her life with her children, but now she wanted more. A new life. Maybe even a new man someday. Agreeing to see Jonathan was the first step. After today, Jonathan would be put away, sealed tight and in the rear view mirror. Her life could begin again. If she didn’t have a heart attack first.
She should be embracing the opportunity, happy to put the past in the past. Her heart felt like it could beat right out of her chest and sweat trickled down her sides, even though the overcast day had begun to turn cool. Afraid to open the door and afraid to drive away in equal measure, she sat frozen in her car instead. She’d insisted on Denny’s near the interstate, but that had been before her need to know why he’d left a note on her pillow and caught a plane right out of her life outweighed her fear of finding out the truth. She understood Catherine’s warning a bit too late. Be careful what you wish for.
A sleek, black sedan coasted through the lot and into a parking space a few cars away. She dismissed the car and returned to watching the entrance. For the length of their marriage, he’d driven an open-air jeep. The luxury car didn’t seem his style, and it surprised her when he opened the door.
Her heartbeat quickened when she saw him. The first two times she’d seen him she’d been unprepared, but now she studied him. There were a few more strands of gray at his temples, and he wore his hair a little longer. Otherwise, he looked remarkably the same. He’d aged, but the years treated him kindly. His brown eyes scanned the lot until he noticed her parked station wagon and strode toward her.
He paused at the hood of her car for a split second before rounding it and walking to her door. He reached for her door handle. She realized this wasn’t a conversation she could have surrounded by strangers. Lillie’s eyes met his, and she tilted her head to the right to indicate he should join her in the car.
Jonathan
took the seat next to her and fastened his seatbelt as she put the car in reverse. He said nothing, but looked over his shoulder as Lillie backed the car out of its slot.
She lifted an eyebrow, and he shrugged. “Looking for mailboxes.”
Lillie smiled in spite of herself.
The car was silent as they drove through the streets of LaSalle, and Lillie was grateful. Small talk was the last thing she was in the mood for, but she wished she’d flipped on the radio before he’d gotten into the car. The silence, anything but comfortable, only stood to further illustrate the chasm between them.
Within a few minutes, Lillie pulled into the drive at Lindenhurst, LaSalle’s old town cemetery. She steered slowly around curves until she reached the oldest section. Towering oak trees stood watch over rows of silent charges. This area seldom saw visitors. Anyone who’d have remembered the people interred here were themselves long dead and buried. The cemetery stretched far along the riverbank and an old, worn path, lined with ancient boxwood hedges, cut like a ribbon down its middle. She nearly had to pry her fingers from the wheel and she flexed her fingers to restore the circulation.
Lillie unhooked her seat belt and exited the car. She didn’t wait for Jonathan to come around, but hopped out of her wagon as fast as she could. Funny as it seemed, not allowing him to open her door asserted her independence. On their first date he’d surprised her by opening her car door, something seldom done by any of the twenty-something college grads she’d been used to dating. Jonathan was older, five years her senior, and more polished and sure of himself. The simple gesture of opening the car door had caught her attention and the thirty year-old high school band director had thereafter, quickly won her heart.
Lillie looked over her shoulder at Jonathan, who paused by his open door, studying her. They stared at each other for a few moments, as if each daring the other to speak. Lillie broke the gaze first, and started down the path to the river.
* * *
Jonathan stood outside the car for a moment and looked at her retreating back. Lillie hadn’t waited for him to come around to open her door and that surprised him. She’d changed in the years since he’d seen her last. He had been the catalyst for those changes. Like it or not, it was his fault if the new Lillie made him uncomfortable.
He’d expected her to look exactly the same, frozen in time. But it had been over six years. Her golden hair had darkened and she wore it in a shorter style. Her figure had rounded out as well. Knowing Lillie, she fretted about the added pounds. But she looked lovely, more woman than girl and for a moment he longed to pull her against him and explore her new curves. His eyes followed her down the path, he felt the same pang of attraction he’d felt fifteen years ago when they’d first met at a party at Cassie and Ben’s.
It took them a while to marry, almost four years to the day after their first date, but he’d known from the start. They met in the era where only the very expensive cars had remote entry doors. Jonathan, a teacher, owned a modest car that had to be unlocked with the actual key. He knew that she was “the one” because after settling in the car most women would simply wait for him. When Lillie strained and reached across the car to unlock his door he knew she was the one for him. A sign she’d always meet him half way. And she did. Except where a baby was concerned. On that topic, there’d been no negotiation.
“Lillie.”
She walked a few steps past him then turned. He could almost sense the internal battle between wanting to distance herself from him and the pain he’d caused her and the curiosity he knew must be burning a hole in her heart. “How long have you been back in town?”
“Not long, just over a week.”
Lillie kicked at a stone on the path until she loosened it then picked it up and put it in the pocket of her jeans before meeting his gaze. “What are you doing here Jonathan?”
“My mother has breast cancer.”
Lillie gasped, and her hand went to her throat. “When did she find out? I saw her only last week!”
Jonathan paused, but he wasn’t surprised. He knew Lillie and his mother were still close. “She called last week and asked me to come home.”
“I don’t think she’s felt well for quite a while. But she puts in so many hours caring for Molly. I thought she was just run down. She always says Molly is no strain because she is her granddaughter, but I know it takes a toll. I should have made her go to the doctor in the spring. I knew she sounded really down and out, but so was everyone. It was such a long, cold Indiana winter. She’s never liked winter…” Lillie’s rambling finally ran its course.
Jon ran his hands through his unruly hair. “Do you see Mom a lot?”
“I keep tabs on them. Molly is still my Goddaughter, you know.”
“Of course,” he said, realizing Lillie would take the commitment seriously.
“What’s her prognosis?”
“It depends on who you ask, but none of the doctors I’ve consulted have given us much hope. I want to take her back with me to Minnesota to see someone at Mayo Clinic.”
“Will you take Molly, too?” Lillie asked.
Molly had suffered from a rare and debilitating genetic disorder called Rett’s syndrome. Rett’s syndrome is a childhood neuro-developmental disorder that affects females almost exclusively.
Cynthia, Jonathan’s sister, gave birth to Molly as an unmarried twenty-four year old. Unable to deal with the demands of single motherhood, Cynthia abdicated the care of her daughter to her mother and left town . His sister lived on the west coast and was having some moderate success in acting. She supported her daughter financially, but otherwise was not active in her only child’s life.
“I don’t think it is wise to move her out of her familiar surroundings”
“She doesn’t do well with change,” Lillie cut in.
“If Mom’s going to beat this then she needs to conserve her energy. She’s worn herself to a frazzle taking care of Molly by herself.”
“She hasn’t been all by herself. She has me.” Lillie squared her jaw as if daring him to comment.
Jonathan didn’t need a GPS to understand where she was coming from with the remark. Lillie stayed and supported his mother and his niece when he went to away to start a new life.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know I have no right to ask you for any favors, and I wouldn’t impose if there was anyone else--” Jon paused, took a deep breath and fully exhaled before he continued. He wished he was anywhere but here, but his mother left him with no choice. “I am arranging for the aid who occasionally helps out with Molly to stay for the week, but Mom still won’t leave her to go to the Mayo Clinic. I hope, maybe if you will agree to keep an eye on things, Mom will reconsider.”
Lillie looked at him, and he realized although he could once read her mind, he had no idea what she was thinking now.
“I can stop in the mornings after I drop the kids off at school, and we will all come by in the evenings…I would do anything for Donna,” she added.
“What about your kids?” Jonathan inquired, changing the subject. “It won’t be too much for you?”
“They’ll come with me. They love Molly.” Lillie looked him square in the eye. “Taking care of Molly is no hardship, Jonathan. She’s my family.”
Point taken. Jonathan exhaled and looked across the expanse of granite slabs marking the graves. Some were small, some grand, but almost all of them were becoming illegible from age. The weather had beat upon them until they were merely shadows of their former selves. Kind of like him. The one difference was for those who lay here, there were no second chances. God knew he didn’t deserve one, but God probably also knew he’d try anyway.
Since he had no idea what else to say, and not wanting to leave things on such bad terms, and, yes, because he still was a glutton for punishment, he said, “Mom says your kids are beautiful. Do you have photos?” he asked.
Lillie’s brow creased as she considered his request. Finally, she reached into her bag, pul
led out a tiny pocket album and handed it to him.
Jon opened the small book, and his heart wrenched. In the picture, Alex was smiling up at his mother with pure joy, a Chicago Cub’s hat on his head, an Oreo clutched in each hand and his sister’s arms around him. It struck him then, had things been different, he would have taken this photo. But things weren’t different, and an almost physical pain sliced through his heart. But he didn’t let go of the album. He couldn’t stop looking at them.
It was plain as the smiles on their faces they were a unit. A family. But wasn’t that why he’d done it? So Lillie could have what she wanted. This moment he should feel, if not happy, then at least justified. Jon flipped page after page of the little album and his heart broke a little more with each smile. He closed his eyes, and the waves of misery nearly overwhelmed him.
Lillie had gotten the family she deserved and he? Well. He’d gotten…a thriving business. He’d been listed in last month’s issue as one of Forbes Magazine’s Entrepreneurs of the Year. He employed hundreds of people, had single handedly saved a town from extinction and secured the future of his mother—of his niece. It all worked out the way it was supposed to. His plan had gone off without a hitch. Pure perfection, wasn’t it?
Well, not perfect. Lillie had the kids, but not the doting husband. And he’d spent the last years working so hard he’d barely had time to notice the victory dance was being attended by him alone. But he’d done his best—all he could, to step aside and allow Lillie her shot at happiness. If it hadn’t gone off without a hitch…well, then…that was just life, and it couldn’t be helped, could it?
* * *
It felt surreal to be having this conversation with her husband—no, no, NO! Not her husband anymore, even though she could never bring herself to date after he left. She didn’t have the energy a full-time relationship would require and Lillie didn’t see the purpose of casual dating at this point in her life.
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